La Pâtissier
by Raf Kowalski
Summary: What Marui gets from drooling over a cake and almost stealing it from pastry shop: has to work for an incredibly insane chef.
1. A la Creme

**Warning: OC, un-beta-ed.**

**Who wants to be my beta-reader?**

* * *

**La Pâtissier**

**Chapter 1: **

**A la Creme**

The redhead self-proclaimed genius smiled assuredly. With a dreamy sigh, he beheld the most beautiful creature he had ever seen in this world, sparks of adoration flaming in his lavender irises. Gazing meaningfully, she sure was the only one for him; his first and last love. They were soul mates and meant to be. Forever.

But she was trapped now, in a gigantic cold glass jail. He could feel her screaming for help even though she didn't open her mouth. He could sense her whispering even though she couldn't speak.

_Save me…. Take me… _

It was so sweet, so seductive… he shivered as tingle ran down his spine. She was truly flirtatious. He clenched his fist tightly. _Someday, I swear, I'll take you and escape you from this hell… we'll be free, and it's just you and me together… _He put his hand to the glass wall between them, blew a goodbye kiss then walked away with a pounded heart, too hard to leave her alone.

* * *

Another day came, times passed as fast as a girl changing clothes.

Marui Bunta, the infamous volley specialist of Rikkaidai slung his tennis bag, hurriedly running after tennis practice that afternoon. He bravely ignored the glare of his teammates, Niou Masaharu, the deafening shout of 'tarundoru!' by Sanada Genichirou, even the if-you-don't-go-back-I'll-kill you smile of the angelic buchou, Yukimura Seiichi. He actually forced himself hard to neglect the warnings, because right now he had nobler mission to accomplish and there absolutely had to be one certain destination to go.

Parfait Patisserie

Marui gasped as his round orbs fell to the dessert displaying in the glass box, figuratively demanding him to be brought out. There she was. The strawberries atop of creamy, soft whipped cream looked glazing against the sunshine; the dripping chocolate artistically spread here and there; the undoubtedly luscious sponge cake; all of them was combined perfectly in a piece of Strawberry Chocolate Cake. Marui's mouth now was half-parted, saliva stagnating in it.

_It's time to save you, my darling princess!_

Abruptly, he dug into his pockets to find some money. Null. He screwed his bag's contents, hoping he unintentionally left some pennies or if he was lucky enough, his wallet. He rarely brought wallet to school because his kouhai, Kirihara Akaya sometimes took it without permission only to see his childhood photograph and make fun of it.

It was void. None. Nada. He panicked. Of course he did! He was supposed to take her home, as soon as possible! He couldn't wait any longer. He messed up his fluffy hair in anger and imitative depression, who knows that one of bewildered passersby would pity him and finally buy him that cake?

"How can I be so stupid? I'm a tensai!" he hissed. Wait. He was a tensai, right? He must have had many ways to take this pretty princessa home.

And I mean, in MANY ways.

Legal or not, it wasn't the right time to think about it. He was cornered. It was an emergency situation! He had to find a way to escape her from the abandoned dungeon.

Licking his upper lips, he almost could taste her heavenly sugary body. He imagined having her in his mouth, covering his tongue as the heat of his body made her melt. The ptyalin slowly broke the sugar up, so that the sucrose could be separated to glucose and he could gain energy from catabolism process—forget the biology. Oh, she surely would satisfy his glorious sense of taste!

His eyes twitched from corner to corner as he ambled relaxingly into the bakery, trying to minimize the suspicion of whoever saw him running his fingers on the display glass, whistling randomly and smiling so widely with teeth gleaming in most peculiar way. Well, it was a futile attempt, then. He positioned himself near his lover, eyes twitching once again to make sure what he had seen.

The shop was strangely empty.

He raised an eyebrow and shrugged. Whatever. It means a good sign for him, after all. No one would catch him red-handed and he could peacefully conduct his plan to save Strawberry (the cake's nickname which he decided one hundred seventy eight seconds ago).

But first, he wanted to touch her sooth pure white cream… his tip of index finger poked the surface of Strawberry carefully yet eagerly. Then it came to his mouth, licking it…

Yum. It felt sooo good. As expected from an expert like her.

Marui's face lit up, rose-colored tint painting his chubby cheeks. Kami-sama! I really love her, please don't let her go! His hands practically grab the five hundred and twenty yens pastry and—

"Boo."

"WHOAAAAAAAA!" Never had Marui jumped due to a very low whisper that sounded heavier to be a girl's voice but softer to be a guy's but this time. Did a gay catch him off-guard? That wasn't quite cool.

Oh well. It wasn't cool-or-not cool matter; he had to deliver the cake to his stomach for the sake of sugar need! Not daring to look back, he pretended to stun for a moment, then took a step forward, a step again, then his hand attempted to reach the cake as fast as he could but suddenly, something like a lightning stopped his movement fully.

"H-hey!" a pair of arm was locking him, digging his skin. The person behind him moved closer, the heat from the stranger's breath tickling Marui's ear lobe. What the hell was this? Cringing, his heart punched his ribs quicker.

"Okay, let go of me and I'll never come back." He said tremblingly as he silently prayed for safety. He was still fifteen and straight, and the living thing that grabbed him was probably male and was like… twenty plus years old? What the heck would the world say about it? He still wanted to live and eat more sweets and there would be upcoming tennis tournament and… so on!

"What did you do to my cake?" the soft yet heavy voice was heard again, a hint of hidden sadist was clearly sent to Marui's auditory sense. His body became tense, prayers were said more humble.

He turned Marui's stiff body to face him.

"…you're an interesting young boy…"

That smirk of his equaled to Medusa's eyes, Marui could say. He felt he was a stone already.

A good-looking man with low ponytail and oval glasses lifted Marui's chin. He leaned in until his raven hair brushed Marui's cheeks as a smile was menacingly plastered on his face.

"DO YOU KNOW WHAT YOU ARE DOING, BASTARD? YOU ARE STEALING! DO YOU KNOW THE PUNISHMENT FOR STEALER?" the man yelled with super bombastic stereo. Mount Fuji erupted. Alaska melted. The Red Sea went tsunami.

And Marui wished Sanada had ever taught him for being a good rock.

"HAH?"

Silence.

"SPEAK, DAMMIT!"

"How can I speak if you shout like that?" After collecting some guts (or the rest of the guts) he had, he finally spoke.

Another earthquake. "HOW DARE YOU YELL AT ME!" Marui covered his face from the 'splash of local rain', "B-but you asked me to speak!"

"Really?" the raging aura background immediately split to innocent blank view. Marui comically fell to the ground with two legs on the top.

The man cleared his throat, "Okay. Where were we? Oh, the punishment. Alright." He adjusted his glasses so he could get that glinted-glasses-moment. Speaking of Inui…

Marui hadn't finished rubbing his back of head yet when the strangely strange stranger changed his chef uniform in a blink of eye; then the room became darker, black clouds flew mysteriously and spin like tornado, complete with thunders and Phantom of the Opera as backsound.

"YOU HAVE TO WORK FOR ME TO PAY IT, BE MY SLAVE FOREVER! HUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" his voice echoed throughout the universe, left hand holding a whip while he was dressed in Queen Heart costume.

Marui sweatdropped.

* * *

**Virtual Strawberry Chocolate Cakes for reviewers! :D**


	2. Beurre Manie

**Marui may be OOC, the story may have lots of grammatical errors, the OC may be Gary-Stu but I may update this, may I not? Before you attempt to dissect me, of course :P**

**Disclaimer: Monsieur Konomi Takeshi**

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**Chapter 2:**

**Beurre Manie  
**

The Queen Heart man turned off the gramophone and the sky was gradually clear again. "How was that?" His eyes shaped crescent as a smile pushed his cheeks upward.

Sweat still hanging on his forehead, Marui gaped in a total shock. The mysterious yet ridiculous man before his eyes had taken off the costume and back into his usual suit, but this very fact he knew made him racked his brain harder than ever. Well, he wasn't _that_ pure genius, you know.

The wheels in his head almost cracked due to hard collision between them; Marui stopped thinking to prevent it from serious damage. Closing his eyes, he could hear again the resounding of the man's sentences and it sounded like DIE! DIE! DIE! or something like that. He had to pay it by working? In this patisserie?

"So, what is your name, young boy?" the tone of the man's voice seemed normal, no verbose or impersonation like what he had done before. Hands on back, he walked back and forth, the thud from his steps keeping in rhythm.

Marui was about to open his mouth when something hit him (No, it wasn't tennis ball or anything randomly tossed in the air). How would he be if that sissy knew his name? Would his parents and the whole world know about this? What would happen if sodium bicarbonate and hydrochloride acid was reacted? "Amai," he lied.

The man stopped, cupping his ears. "Marui?"

The display looked tempting to smash his head on.

He really had had enough.

"Okay, Marui." The man crossed his arms, "Today is your minus first day to work."

WHATTHEEFF? Wait. What did he say? Minus first day? It even sounded improper. "But, but I just eat the cream… that's it! I'll pay it tomorrow, I swear!"

Those pretty weird crimson eyes that had seen him closely turned darker, fire of anger flaring wildly from them. "NO THAT'S IT! That's my cream! You hurt my sweetheart! It. Is. So. Unacceptable." In the last, he banged the table nearby him that was actually an electric stove. Marui didn't have any idea why it had to be there, but he let out a satisfactory chuckle upon seeing the torturing man waving his hand and blowing it.

"What are you laughing of?" The man put an ice cube on his hand and held it. Marui also didn't bother to find out where he got the ice. He probably got used to the sudden appearance of stuffs or changes in this bakery.

"Nothing." Marui posed an innocent face, and then he realized something. "Hey, you are not fair. You know my name and I don't know yours."

"So?" the chef dared him back, annoyance spread on his expression. "I own this place and you're in my territory. But okay, I know I'm famous and handsome and super talented so you probably are awed by my prowess and start to idolize me—" Marui's thought suddenly drifted off of two certain persons from Hyoutei. "—So, okay, my name is Ishihara Kazuyuki."

A crow flew passed them. "I guess your name is Italian or French name… like Marco, or Jean-Claude. So, you are just ordinary Japanese." Marui stated nonchalantly.

"Do you have a problem with that?" there the beast went again.

"No! No! No! It's okay. Being proud Japanese is good!" Marui shook his head quickly, showing his sweet tooth and giving him a thumb up like model on cereal's pack.

Ishihara smiled sickeningly sweet, cocking his head cutely. "That's good. Now let's start working."

Freeze. So, this was for real. Okay, so, oh dang it! What should he do now? Yes, he had to find excuse. Ah! He got it. "You know, I'm still on junior high school… I am not allowed to do part-time job yet, right?"

This time, it would work; Marui was sure as the sun rose up from the east.

Ishihara remained silent, pondering, and then pointing at Marui. "You are a Rikkai Dai student, right? I'll tell Yoshizawa-san that from now, you're working at Parfait Patisserie."

How came he knew Rikkai Dai's principal? This guy was indeed scary. Before Marui could say a word, Ishihara explained as if he had read his mind. "I am a best friend of his and he is my loyal consumer."

A fantasy balloon blew up over Marui's hand, picturing two gentlemen shaking hands and slinging each other's arms. They wore the smile of happiness and satisfaction, shining stars surrounding them. They might converse like this:

_Yoshizawa-san: Thanks for the Opera Cake last night. It was so awesome!_

_Ishihara: My pleasure, mister. I am glad you enjoy it._

_Yoshizawa-san: So, which hotel do you want to check-in next week?_

_Ishihara: Ah, it's up to you, Yoshizawa-san. I'm fine as long as I'm with you._

The balloon plopped as Marui shuddered at his own thought. Why the heck did it turn to be yaoi's story? Then he realized that Ishihara was handing a needle, it shined upon reflecting the sunlight.

"I am definitely not gay. If I was, I wouldn't pick him as my uke, though," he said matter-of-factly. Marui interrupted, "But you don't look like seme."

"SHUT UP!" a whip flashed 0.2 millimeters from Marui's nose. "To hell with that stuff. Anyway, you have to work here for…" Ishihara looked at the ceiling while Marui's heart leapt erratically. Thank God he saved! "...thirteen, fourteen, yeah, fifty seven days. Considering the days in a month is approximately thirty days, so if we calculate mathematically it takes about two months minus three days. First week for gazing suspiciously at my cake, second week for entering my shop while I'm still in the kitchen and the rest is for tasting the cake. Geddit?"

Marui's eyes widened. "So, the licking part is the most one?"

"Sure, baka! Many people admire my cake from distance, I still can tolerate. Many buyers-to-be open my door shop, it's okay. But a fat, girly magenta-haired teen with nasty bubblegum touches my beloved Strawberry Chocolate Cake? That's unforgivable!"

Could you hear that? There was something breaking; Marui's heart. It shattered into gazillion pieces partly because his princess was legally Ishihara's and partly because he was called girly and fat. Poor Marui, let's give him a hug.

Ishihara shot a glance at Marui's saddened face, lips twitching, line brow creased in understanding. "Hmp, don't give me that look. You want to say, 'you don't know how much I love her!' right? With tears and all?"

Marui looked up at Ishihara with hopeful, starry puppy eyes. The broken heart was composed one by one. Finally. Hurray! "So, you will give me that cake?" he dropped his chin on his twined fingers, trying to look as cute as possible.

The smile on Ishihara's face seemed sincere; little did Marui know that it also contained cruelty. He took off his chef hat then put it on Marui's head, and flicked his forehead. "Of course not, stupid young boy! Now, get working!"

And damn, it hurt.

* * *

**DAY -1**

"Alright, I have told you all the stuffs here and how to use and treat them. Now, mention again what I have said."

Marui stared at the 'apparatuses' in front of him, befuddled.

"Mixer, food processor, scissor…"

A slap landed on Marui's head.

"Okay, okay! I'm just kidding, geez." He blew his bubblegum and then popped it. "Knife, this is the easy one. Then, roller. This is, hmmm… su, sug, what's it again?"

Ishihara gave him a deathly look. Marui replied it with an exasperated sigh. "Alright, a jar of sugar. Then, what else? I can walk home now, right?"

"Yes."

"Hulamama! Right now? See y—"

"When the doomsday comes." The chef pulled backside of Marui's collar, leaving him swinging the legs in the air. "Now, you have to make something from these ingredients. A product, I mean a pastry because I run a patisserie and you're working for me here. Is that clear?"

"As clear as that display box, sir." Marui pressed his lips together and gulped; he had had enough from drooling. He pondered for a few seconds, and then we heard, "WHAT? I BAKE A CAKE?" followed by a mutter, "Hey, it rhymes."

Unsurprisingly, Ishihara formed a wide curve by his lips, so perfect like a crescent moon had been moved to his face. Really, really bad and wrong decision if Marui insisted not to obey his order.

At that moment, he just realized that he was working_. This is what a job is like; I swear I don't want to work for a company in the future,_ Marui thought, cringing.

* * *

Ishihara leaned his back against the shop door, sighing. He held his chef hat in his chest, his jet black strays swaying wild. Hand stroked his forehead, he sensed he was sweating.

He didn't know that having a co-worker—or rather, a forced one—was this hard. Deep inside the heart, he was very happy, for he had been working all by himself since he was graduated from Patisserie School in Paris. This shop was his dream and he had made it come true, but nothing felt emptier than being alone.

Marui was still messing his kitchen with flour and eggs. He could see from the sudden white fog floating and sticky yellow fluid coating Marui's fingers as well as the floor. He coughed a little due to inhale the powder, then watching Marui back.

But now, the smile of the boss was soft as he closed his eyes. He knew what he did, after all.

* * *

"How the hell should I do with these freaking stuffs?" the newbie chef of Parfait Patissier mocked annoyingly to non-living things on the kitchen buffet; his fingers was sleek by two unintentionally cracked eggs and his red hair now turned white because of his recklessness resulting in spreading wheat flour everywhere.

Tomatoes, apples, butter, and three-colored peppers stayed silent.

The redhead grumbled, blew his bangs while arms on hips. All he could do about cakes was eating them, not making them! He twirled his hair, tapped his chin, rubbed his jaw, ignored raw albumin spreading over his body but no inspiration struck him for what he should do.

"That's why they are so precious, huh," Marui murmured. "Of course they are precious! Sugar sink!" a finger-flick indicated that he started to begin. Marui then brought a bowl, a mixer, the remained flour and an egg. Recalling what his mother did and what the television showed on cooking program, he held the mixer tightly and pumped it to the air.

"I can do it!"

_Five minutes later…_

Marui still froze with a mixer on his hand, posing like liberty statue.

_Ten minutes later…_

Three-colored pepper began to gossip about him, if they had mouths.

_Twenty minutes la—_

"MA-RU-I!" behind him, Ishihara was burned by obvious anger. Marui jolted, jumping slightly when the flame virtually reached his pants.

"Ishihara-san—Chef Ishihara!"

"Have you finished with the—what in the world are you doing to my oven?" Marui's gaze followed Ishihara's finger at the coughing oven that strangely vomited black smoke and electricity stream.

Marui paused.

"Eh?" He suddenly squeaked. "How come the oven went like that? I didn't do anything I swear!" Marui hastily added, waving his hands in denial.

Meanwhile, our chief of patissier inhaled deeply, then exhaled. Inhaled, exhaled. Inhaled, exhaled. "Relax, Kazu, it is all right. You can fix it." He opened his eyes, bloodshot and creepy, shuddering Marui involuntarily. He took a step backwards, letting Ishihara walked closer to the baker machine.

He sure detested him. Oh man, Marui was going to die soon.

No, not yet.

Ishihara started to disassemble the electronic cooking device. "It must be because of the flour, it stuck in—ouch! Damn, the electricity… this one is… no, ah! Marui!" he shouted, head in the oven so his voice sounded heavier. "Look what you've done!"

_Look what you've done? Jet's song?_ Marui shrugged. "Eee… what's up, Chef Ishihara?"

"Here, the egg yolks! It moistures the component inside it, so—"

_WOOOSSHH_

"WHOAAAAAAAAAAAAA! FIREEEEEEEE!"

Thank God Ishihara's head was already out of the oven.

"Quick! Fire extinguisher!"

"Oka—aaaaargh! Shit! I slipped!"

"That's your fault, sissy! Move your big ass and spray the carbon dioxide!"

"Wait a minute! The floor is really slippery!"

"If you didn't break the eggs then it wouldn't be happened. Now fire the fire!"

"Here it is! Eat that!"

_BOOOSSHH_

"ARGH MY EYES! IT BURNS!

"So-sorry, Chef Ishihara! I'll get you the wa—"

_BAM!_

"Ma, ru, i, you, he, aaa…veeeh!"

"The foam is sticking on my hair! Blah! It tastes lousy!"

"Of course, it is not whipping cream, after all. CAN YOU JUST LET ME GET UP, MARUI?"

"Oh, there you are, chef. I wonder I didn't get hurt when I fell this time."

"So please, soon-or-never-to-be Chef Marui, GET OUT OF MY BODY!"

"HUAAAA BROWNIIIEEE!"

And thus, the (minus) first day of work of Marui Bunta ran not that smoothly. Sadly, it was not over yet.

* * *

**What do you guys think? Your feedbacks are very important to me, because I am quite not sure about this story *sighs* I have the plot in my mind, but somehow it turns out to be unexpected like this. Thanks, minna!**


	3. Café Brûlot

**Disclaimer: not owned by me, and no offense to any related parties used in this purely fictional work.**

**Now Marui starts to work seriously~**

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**Chapter 3:**

**Café Br****û****lot **

"Che, Where is Marui-senpai, heh? He's not seen anywhere. Isn't he around here?" the wakame-haired boy scratched his head, lips twitching in frustration. A taller guy beside him was busily jotting down on his notebook, his slanted eyes staring at the next tennis court.

"The possibility of Marui seeking for food is 67%," he stated. "But there is also 48% chance for him to conduct the unfinished experiment in chemistry lab, and 32.5% to do his homework before the teacher comes after this lunch time."

"Say, Yanagi-senpai." The younger lad leaned against the big tree behind him. "What are we going to do this—aaaa!" he rubbed his head. "It hurts, Niou-senpai!"

"Puri." Suddenly, someone popped out of the tree, his silver hair billowing by wind. His left hand played a pebble by throwing and catching it. "Don't let your guard down." He said, impersonating a certain someone.

"Don't show off, Niou." Another man came; his glasses glinted against the sunshine.

The curly hair and the data man flabbergasted, exchanging glances.

"Where are you come from?"

"5th dimension?" The rattail said nonchalantly. "Have you seen the fat sissy? He ran right after the bell rang. It's hella weird of him since he doesn't run out of sugar." He stood with arm akimbo while another hand on the tree supported his weight.

"He doesn't in your class, Niou?" everybody's heed instantly turned into the heavy voice's owner. Behind him, a feminine, seemingly fragile bishonen trailed him with his permanent smile plastered on his porcelain face. Somehow, they practically heard gospel song. "I thought you were with him." The capped boy added.

Niou huffed. "Being his classmate doesn't mean being his girlfriend, Sanada. Even, facebook is more protective than me,"

"What's your point, Niou-senpai?" Akaya queried, still giving the bump painkiller gel.

The buchou said, walking to the center of them. "Let's check his account. Maybe he wrote a status."

"Or update his location on foursquare." A tanned man added. They looked around, staring quizzically at the said person.

Yanagi continued while Jackal sulked in the corner. "It is 93% probability that Marui has abandoned his account in social networking since 2 days ago. It is proved by the news feed." He tugged a tiny smile, priding himself.

"Hmm…" Yukimura pondered. "If he's not coming, we can't start practice…"

Akaya's eyes were gleamed, and so were Niou's. They grinned cheerfully. "So, we can head home now, buchou? I want to watch Kamen Rider!" the Demon Ace hooped while posing his puppy-eyes.

As expected, Yukimura smiled angelically. Niou, who sensed for something bad would happen was about to run off. Too late, Yukimura tilted his head to the vice captain. "How about fifty laps, Sanada?"

"Tarundoru!"

* * *

**DAY 0**

Marui sighed in relief. His hand swept the sweat on his forehead due to the heat when he was running to the particular pastry shop, Parfait Patisserie.

"Pheeeew," he slide down, leaning against the entrance. "Finally, I made it to here. I hope no one realizes I skip practice today." Then, he recalled something. "Okay, at least they don't stalk me. I know Yukimura knows." He panted slightly before falling back and his backside head almost kissed the cold floor of the shop. He stood up.

"Quick, change your uniform."

Ishihara was standing by the door, other hand that didn't hold the door knob handing him a neatly folded chef suit complete with the hat. Marui blinked twice first before took it. It smelled like tropical fruit and jasmine—he used the same brand of softener as his mom did. "I'm waiting at the kitchen." He turned back.

After changing, he went out from restroom, checking his appearance multiple times. Was he looking good and proper enough? He would not want to make the same mistakes.

Hhh. Wish life wasn't this hard.

"Finished?" Ishihara asked. Marui pushed the urge to say 'what does this look like?' and nodded instead. "Good. Now, in your—cough—day zero, you will assist me in baking pastries. I hope you still remember what I taught you yesterday—"

"Excuse me, sir." Marui couldn't stand it, saying in high pitch. "It seems that you didn't teach anything to me about how to bake and let me destroy the oven instead." He straightly looked at his boss' eyes, or rather, glared.

Ishihara formed _his_ smile. "My, my," he shook his head. "You're braver now." And that successfully sent chills down Marui's spine.

He hoped he could take his words back. But that was not an attitude of a gentleman, right? Well, he was not Yagyuu, he would not have to worry.

"I'm sorry." He mumbled in annoyance.

"Okay!" Ishihara clapped his hand, flashing a Cheshire's grin. "Now, we have an order from Miss—" he opened a notebook, "—Ka-ga-mi-ne. Yeah, that. Who will write this bad? It is almost ineligible to read." His hand swayed and rotated the book as if he was trying to find how to read it properly. Not to mention his pretended nose-wrinkling that lowered his glasses' position. Marui merely kept quite. He just positively assumed that Ishihara has alter-egos. Many alter-egos.

"She said that tomorrow is her mother's birthday, so she requested for a birthday cake." Ishihara continued.

The pink hair youth rolled his eyes. "Ha, that's easy for you, right? What can I do? Preparing for the cream? Cutting the fruit for garnish?"

"No."

"Buying action figure for the candle—what?"

Ishihara coughed. "First rule: Don't talk before I order you to." He formed '1' by his point finger, and flipped his note open again, "The problem is that her mother has cold allergic that makes her to diet by not consuming some allergen which can trigger the skin disease from her allergic, like egg, milk, and chocolate."

"WHAT?" his eyes nearly jumped from their holes. "So why she bothered to order cake? Give her something else! Jewelry, or, else!" the Rikkai self-proclaimed tensai frowned. "How come we make a cake without egg, milk, and chocolate?"

"That's our job."

"We can't make a gold or diamond cake, Ishihara-san! FOR GOD'S SAKE!" Maybe, Marui thought, if he imitated Ishihara's way in exaggerating his act to show his statement, he would understand. So, he posed like a beggar not being feed in a freaking week, sliding on the floor and scratching the glass display box. After about five minutes passed, he decided to stop and found Ishihara was preparing the utensils.

"Done?" Ishihara asked without looking back. Marui was growing mushroom on the kitchen floor.

Couldn't Ishihara just turn into an old lady who cursed him so she could drag him to hell?

Marui got up and approached the head chef. "So, what can I do for you? This is my first—zero day."

"Correction: what you can do for us." Ishihara rubbed his jaw, pondering. "I myself don't have any idea, to be honest. This is the first time I received such an odd request."

"So why don't we cancel it and say we can't make it?" Marui played with his chef hat. "And tell them to be a little rational if it's needed."

Dark clouds formed above Ishihara's head, reminding Marui of some times ago when he found himself in the Wonderland of Ishihara, where he got electricity shock in the middle of hot summer.

No, not again. Not the stormy thunder.

"You know what?" Ishihara whispered while the sound of blaze appeared as the background. "Admitting the weakness in front of dearest costumer is something that is prohibited to do by a skilled, well-known chef like me. Since you are working behind my scene, I am fully responsible for your work and have the right to forbidden you to do so." he said sternly. "Un-der-stand?"

Now playing: Requiem by Mozart.

Marui nodded his hand before dumped his face to the kitchen bench, drenched by Ishihara's virtual rain.

So, what would he do next?

* * *

"Aye!" Akaya exclaimed randomly. "I. am. Finished!"

He tossed a punch to the air only to have it drop down helplessly a second later. His body fell to the ground like a pile of paper, producing a loud thud against the surface of tennis court.

"Exhausted, huh?" Niou sneered, mocking him. "Puri."

"I. am. Not." Akaya panted heavily. "I'll. Crush—"

Silence.

"Oi, brat." Niou, who was sitting by extending his muscled legs while pouring some water down to his esophagus, glanced at his kouhai. There he lied with red all over his body. Was he dead?

Niou came closer, picked a fallen branch and nudged it to Akaya's body. "In case he'll awake raging, I have to make a space." Niou mumbled to himself. But unlike the ticklish Akaya, he didn't move even slightly.

"I want to go to bakery after this. Wanna join? I may buy some cakes." Niou shouted. He was sure he was loud enough to be heard by heaven, but Akaya still stoned.

Shrugging, Niou finally got up and walked away. "Okay, maybe I will buy for myself. Eff, where's Marui?"

* * *

"I'm here, Chef! Hey, Chef!"

"What?" Ishihara's head reluctantly turned around, it twisted frighteningly as if it could rotate three hundred and sixty degrees. His face was blackish-blue, hollow, and there was not any single feature of his human face.

Marui paused from waving immediately, eyes going dots.

"Leave me alone…" Marui's boss dropped his head helplessly on the table. "Just… leave… me… alone…"

"Hey hey hey, since when you become an emo, huh?" the redhead punched his shoulder, well, while pretending that the guy before him was healthy and friendly. Inside, he was afraid, too. Ishihara sat in the corner of kitchen bench, holding a knife. Not to mention that he put it close to his veins. Marui let out a trembling awkward laugh.

"You said that we have to be an optimist, we have to fulfill costumer's request, we have to do our best." He continued. "And now?"

"We can't make it, Marui, we just can't." Ishihara said faintly. The tennis genius wannabe crossed his fingers so Ishihara would not move the knife closer.

"Oh c'mon… who says such an intimidate remarks with lightning bolt and Katrina tornado? Telling that we can bake even the most impossible cake in the universe?"

"You're hyperbole." Ishihara's low ponytail fell messily. Marui rolled his eyes counter-clockwise.

The redhead tapped his jaw while pacing back and forth. Maybe that could help him to get some ideas like when the detective was looking for a clue. Or, at least, he looked cool and got some efforts. Suddenly, what he waited came. He snapped his fingers.

"You can change!" as though he just invented a new brilliant product after iPad, Marui tossed a punch to his hand in enthusiasm. "Can't you? You can turn yourself into someone else, even fiction character. You can impersonate Jamie Oliver or Callum Hann, or Kuroyanagi or maybe Sebastian Michaelis. That butler can do everything."

The chef shook his head. "Even if I can imitate them, my skill is way too higher from them! So, what's the point? It's pointless. Or are you trying to mock me?"

"No! Geez," Marui gritted his teeth. "Then, if you're the greatest of all, you sure can do it."

Ishihara sighed again aimlessly. "No…"

"I don't understand. When I'm pessimist, you got the spirit. When I got the spirit, you look as though you just listen to suicide songs!" he stepped backwards, and then pointed a finger to Ishihara. "You're the one to hyperbole things! Strawberries know that!"

"Can you just shut up, Marui?"

"You speak up! Act now! Talk less do more!"

"Like you mean what you say."

"I do—FINE!" The jingling bell was heard, noting Ishihara that Marui was about to leave the shop. He abruptly opened the door and glowered threateningly. "Okay, I work for you unintentionally, but I can prove you that I am worth to be here! I will make the requested birthday cake!" he banged the door quite harshly, leaving it move back and forth slightly before coming to stop point.

Silence fell upon them since the wind suddenly blew softly and Ishihara was smirking behind his strands of bangs.

"You got trapped again, young boy…"

* * *

"Akaya! OI!"

The said boy did not make any slightest move. In fact, his trickster senpai was still standing beside him. However, he could not leave Akaya alone like a dog pretending to die in the center of tennis court, burned by the UV rays. The upperclassmen especially teammates specifically him got a 'responsibility' to take care of him. Well, that unwritten rule was from a certain angel buchou, anyway. He said a demon must be well-treated in order to keep him sane. And no one would object that, as usual.

Being impatience as he was, Niou could not take it longer. He inhaled deeply and ranted with stomach voice. "OI YOU BRAT GET THE EFF UP! DO YOU EFFING HEAR ME, HUH? OH FINE I'M GOING." Still in the loud tone, Niou bid farewell as he went. "SEE YOU IN HELL, BAKAYA!"

_To hell with the rule, he will make it up somehow,_ Niou thought. No sooner then he would trail him and ask for a treat of parfait. After all, Akaya was a sucker for foods. And however, Akaya did not show his bad side to his role model Yukimura so Niou concluded that he knew the boy better.

Niou turned around after half midway only to find a leave flew by the passing wind.

"All right…" he drawled. "I'm starving, anyway." The sun began to set in about three hours. He then continued his journey to the patisserie.

* * *

**Thank you for your reviews, they helped me to continue :D If you have something to say about this story, just let me know, 'kay? :) I hope you enjoyed it!**


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